Grave Encounters
by Artemis1000
Summary: Bodhi Rook thinks it's sad that he has the best conversations with Cassian at his grave. At least they aren't monologues.


Notes: Written for _13 Days of Sniperpilot - A Halloween Special Event_ , Day 4 - Ghosts and Gore. Prompt: _I always have the best conversations with you at your grave_ Ensignrook made a lovely moodboard for this story, take a look here - thank you!

 **Grave Encounters**

"Hello, Cassian."

Bodhi knelt in front of the grave and placed down the flowers he had brought, hands immediately going to work plucking away at weeds and dried leaves, though his mind was far away from gardening.

"Did you miss me?"

It was a balmy night, yet frost started to cover Cassian's gravestone. It started on the letters of his name, engraved in plain black writing on the white headstone, and spread from there like warm breath frosting on glass.

The worshippers of the Force burned their dead on funeral pyres, but Cassian had not worshipped the Force, and on Fest they dug holes into the frozen ground where their dead would remain, forever embraced by the cold their planet was known for.

Cassian's corpse hadn't been returned to Fest. He would have been enraged by such a wartime frivolity, and while Bodhi had been determined to lay him to rest with his ancestors once the war was won…

Well. Things had gotten complicated.

There had not been a single breeze all evening, but now the trees swayed in a wind Bodhi couldn't feel.

He felt the cold, and blew hot air onto his hands. It frosted, too. Bodhi frowned at the gravestone. "That's enough, Cassian, do you want me to lose my fingers?" His voice was light and teasing, he always tried to be cheerful when he visited Cassian. He had known enough sadness in life. Most of the time he managed it at least for a little while before his grief overcame him.

The rustle of the trees changed pitch till it sounded like laughter. Once, Bodhi would have thought his imagination was playing tricks on him. Now, he knew better.

Bodhi still had no name for what was happening, no explanation, and did not dare speak to those more knowledgeable in such matters, for what if they saw none of the wonder and only the danger? Cassian had been lost to him once, that was enough.

He inspected the old flowers on the grave, withered and sucked dry of all life, the patch of brown, dead grass that had spread farther since his last visit.

"You're growing stronger." He smiled. "Soon you will be able to come home with me."

He didn't know what home would have been in a different, more normal life, but now it was a small house at the edge of the outpost on a planet in Wild Space, significant only once for the battle that had cost Cassian's life. The house was just within sight of the old graveyard. Bodhi had gotten it nearly for free.

He leaned forward and caressed the icy stone. The cold seeped into flesh and bone rapidly, but Bodhi had learned how long he could keep touching it before he started to feel weak and withered like the flowers. "I'm sorry we buried you here. You deserved to find your peace. If we had known we would have never…"

He cut himself off, lips pressed tightly together.

It reeked too much of a lie, and he tried not to lie to Cassian – or at least lie no more to him than he lied to himself.

He exhaled slowly, head bowed in shame. "No," he said softy, "if we had known, I would have wanted to." He gulped audibly. "But I want to believe I wouldn't have been selfish. I don't think I would have been, I really think I would have let you go, you've got to believe me, Cassian!"

A breeze ruffled through his hair and swept over his back. He could almost feel each singular finger of Cassian's hand. He really was growing stronger.

Bodhi blinked against the tears in his eyes, more upset with himself now than with anything else. "I'm sorry. I've come to comfort you and now you have to comfort me instead."

There was another touch to his hair. This one lingered longer.

He couldn't bear the icy chill of the tombstone any longer, there was barely any feeling left in his fingers at all. Bodhi withdrew his hands and hugged himself, fingers tucked under his armpits. They didn't warm, their chill just spread through his body.

"I…" He licked his lips and made himself even smaller. "I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you when you were still alive. I was too scared." The tears swimming in his eyes won the fight. Bodhi let them flow. He knew they would freeze to tiny drops of ice on his face. "I thought the worst thing that could happen was you rejecting me. Pretty stupid of me, huh?"

The rustle of the leaves turned mournful.

"There's so much I wish… I just wish I could have told you when you were still alive." He laughed bitterly. It hurt his throat, raw and choked with stifled sobs as it was. "I wish we didn't have the best conversations at your grave."

His chest felt tight, like his lungs couldn't get enough air no matter how hard they tried.

The realization that he had already run out of time sent a fresh wave of tears to Bodhi's eyes.

He picked himself up from his miserable huddle and slinked away, his head bowed, arms still wrapped around himself in a feeble attempt to recover some body warmth.

The circle of dead grass had doubled.

Bodhi smiled through his tears.

Cassian would be coming home soon.


End file.
